


Until we go down

by LauraRose



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Guilty Alec, Hurt Alec Lightwood, M/M, Pancakes, Protective Magnus Bane, Self-Harm, Spoilers for Season Two, Supportive Magnus Bane, fall out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-07 11:51:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11058354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauraRose/pseuds/LauraRose
Summary: Alec deals with the aftermath of Jocelyn’s death and the guilt… and finds a light in that darkness. WARNING: Trigger content for self harm.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [azure7539](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azure7539/gifts), [And anyone who has needed a hand to crawl out of hell](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=And+anyone+who+has+needed+a+hand+to+crawl+out+of+hell).



He stared at the blood on his hands. 

It was real. It was not imagined. It was real blood from a real wound, but instead of being the lifeblood of Jocelyn’s beating heart… A heart that he had stopped beating… He had been weak. Possessed, yes… but weak. Sill warm, he gazed at the ruby red that coated his hands and ran down his arm from the deep wound to his wrist. 

The Sereph Blade lay somewhere in the apartment… he was not sure where. 

The night was warm, and yet Alec could not feel it. He shivered slightly, despite the humidity of the air outside, the humidity that was almost choking. It felt like a hand that had closed around his throat, like a weight that crushed his chest. In vain, he stumbled towards the door and with a slippery hand, opened it to stagger onto the balcony and sink slowly to his knees as the guilt overwhelmed him in a wave. A crashing wave that swept over his head and filled his lungs with murky water, and filled his mind with poison.

He had killed her. 

He had never liked Clary. He had made no secret of that fact that he did not like her. Jealous? Yes, he was more then a little jealous of the little whip of a Shadowhunter who had waltzed in and swept his parabatai off his feet… 

But to have killed her mother, to have put his fist right through her chest… 

So now he watched as the blood oozed, rolling down his arm in large crimson drops and spilled onto the balcony that was the only thing that stopped him from drowning in that crashing ocean. He had fled the institute… into the apartment of his… what? Boyfriend? Lover?

Whatever he was, he was not here. Magnus… was not here. 

Screwing his face up, he drew into him self and curled into the foetal position. 

How long he stayed there, he did not know. He did not feel as the wards around the apartment shiver and go down, before flaring. Alec shivered, and his eyes blinked slowly. A light flared and he squinted at it, hissing as if the light burned. A shadow moved over him, and he turned his face away.

“Alexander… Oh, Alexander, what have you done?”

A hand curled around his bleeding wrist, and Alec could just make out the ringed fingers, closing around the wound… a flash of blue and a grunt from the warlock, and there was only a thin line, as if it was a wound that was weeks old. 

Alec’s head flopped as strong arms wrapped around him and lifted him from the ground as if he was a baby… He did not have the strength to stand up, to even lift his head and look into those bright eyes… All he could do was tremble and turned his head into the chest, inhaling the smell of liquor, a hint of smoke and overly expensive cologne. 

“Magnus.” 

The word came out a sob, and the remaining strength in the young Shadowhunter crumbled… and he fell. 

But strong arms cradled him and he felt himself lowered into a soft mattress, sheets of silk wrapped around him. 

A hand stroked his hair gently, fingers running through it as Alec Lightwood sobbed, cracked into a thousand shards… only to be caught by a glimmering hand that held his, held tight, a promise in that grip. 

The decent into hell maybe easy… but he had someone who would guide him back, and hold his hand every step of the way.


	2. Chapter 2

He hurt.

He hurt and he could not remember why, nor how was it was that he hurt… but he did. Ghost kisses moved over his skin, coaxing and warm… but he withdrew from them slowly. Alec cringed away from the kisses, a whimper in his voice. He could not remember why, but the kisses weren’t deserved, weren't earned… He squirmed into the soft sheets of the bed, and slowly came back into awareness.

He groaned, feeling wrung out and exhausted. Then he remembered it all. 

Joslyn… she was just… gone...

“Alexander…”

Alec opened his eyes to look up at the dark eyes that looked down at him, at the bright brown eyes that stared down at him. Magnus’s lips curled up at him, a smile that was warm and caring, gentle…

Alec looked away, down at his arm and the pink line that ran the length of his arm, from just below the wrist down into the crook of his elbow, and he shivered. He was not cold, but seeing the wound there… he did not know what to say. He did not know how to explain the hole inside of him that he had tried to carve out on the balcony. 

A hand slid under his chin and gently lifted his gaze, and he met the feline eyes. Alec licked his lips, but Magnus would not allow him to look away. 

“Alexander, look at me,” he said softly. Compelled by those words, Alec swallowed, shame and embarrassment written all over his face, however he made himself look into those slitted eyes and take a deep, slow breath. He forced his face into a neutral expression, a mask...

“I'm sorry,” was the first words that spilled out the angel's lips, and he shifted as he felt the rune on his stomach tingle… Jace was worried, terrified… Unconsciously he rubbed at it. Magnus, however, rolled his eyes. He knew that was not what Alec had been going to say. Words like ‘I am fine’ where not going to be believed and Alec didn’t contemplate it again.

“Alexander, you have nothing to be sorry for… save for taking all the blame… again. Your sister told me what happen-” Alec groaned… Izzy. He had left Izzy in the infirmary to be healed… and he had fled, the guilt too much. 

“Is she mad?” Alec asked, and when Magus raised a questioning eyebrow, his eyes flicked to the scar on his arm, straight as one of his arrows. Did Magnus tell her what he had done? The Warlock shook his head, a grim smile on his lips.

“She is glad that you came here and that you are safe, I did not tell her about the state that I found you in. It's not my place,” Magnus said archly… and then smiled a little. “Jace, to use his words, is mad as hell and although he does not know what you did to yourself, he knows that you did something. I had to remind him that if you had died not only would I have been rather upset, he would have known!”

That made Alec huff out a laugh and he shook his head a little as he pushed himself to sit up slowly. That was Jace all over, barging in before he had a chance to engage his brain. 

“I will call him later,” Alec said as he rubbed his eyes. “I just… can't right now,” and he flushed, but was surprised that Magnus was nodding slowly, as if he not only understood, he agreed with the Nephilim. Alec shivered again under that kind gaze, and looked away. 

“Alexander, I understand…” he said quietly and smiled at Alec’s frown. “I really do… I know what it’s like to carry a weight on you shoulders and to carry the blame for something you did not do.” 

“I killed her. I mu-”

“You were possessed.”

“I was wea-” he squeaked as fingers curled around his chin and jerked his head back. 

“No… you are not weak… you are hurting… and that is very different. Do you know how we start to move forwards?” 

Alec shook his head, dumstruck and Magnus leaned in and pressed a kiss on his lips, one that stole his breath away. 

“You get in the shower, I will tell Jace that you are in fact not on death's door and that he can come over later… and yes, you may stay a few days… after last night, I am not letting you out my sight. Honestly, idiot angel, why didn’t you call me?” 

Alec opened his mouth and closed it again, Magnus was already moving off the bed and into the kitchen. 

“How do we… move forward?” Alec called and got a one word answer. 

“Pancakes.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the amazing support!

Alec stared down at the healing wound on his arm tilted it so that the silken fabric of the bathrobe slid down and covered it. An almost ticklish sensation and the wound was hidden under black silk with golden and crimson dragons embodied down the arm and the back, with a hem of dancing flames. Alec had never owned a bathrobe in his life, preferring to just get dressed and be prepared. Magnus had four, and this one, which barely covered his rear, was the most decent of the selection. 

Magnus had taken his clothes – hopefully to wash them, and he was left with this, and a sense of pride which made him want to yell at Magnus to find himself something decent to put on… then he remembered the pathetic state he had been in the night before and sighed. After that scene, he had no pride left… just Shame. Taking a deep breath, raking his fingers through his damp messy hair, Alec strode out the lush bathroom and into the kitchen. 

The place looked as if a bomb had hit it. There was flour everywhere, scattered all over the floor and enough in the air that made the Shadowhunter want to sneeze. Fruit was scattered everywhere, of every kind imaginable and some that he could not. Cream dripped down the side steadily only to be lapped up enthusiastically by Chairman Meow. Alec would have gone for a weapon if he did not see the wild haired man flicking his wrist and the pancake shot from the frying pan and into the stack that was growing. 

“Do you cook often?” Alec asked and had the small delight of making the warlock jump, and the frying pan scattered onto the floor. 

“Honestly, Alexander… I am going to have to get you a bell,” he mused as he waved a hand with apparent casualness and the frying pan righted itself and what had been a pancake vanished into whatever dimension he had banished it. 

Alec sat himself down on the barstool as he watched Magnus, who had paused to let his eyes roam up and down the still slightly damp Shadowhunter form. 

“You didn’t go for the sheer one then?” Magnus asked and Alec glared thought his blush. 

The Warlock grinned. 

It took some time and more then a little magic before the pair were sitting across from each other, both tackling a stack of pancakes drizzled in syrup, fruit tumbling over the edges and fluffy whipped cream. 

Alec felt eyes on him as he devoured the cakes, and they seemed to settle him in a way that only serious exercise only ever seemed to do. Eventually he sighed and set knife and fork down. 

Magnus did the same. 

“Magnus, I-“

Magnus held up his hand. Alec fell silent.   
“Alexander… You have no idea what I went through last night when I found you on the balcony, barely conscious…” Magnus said and clasped his chin. 

“You destroying yourself would have destroyed me too, Alec… I know your hurting… But your not alone…” the warlock whispered as he stroked a finger along the strong, stubborn jaw. 

He saw Alec swallow, and Magnus allowed his voice to soften, just a little. 

“Your not alone, Alexander… and I will be there with you, every step of the way…” he said quietly. “Just promise me one thing…” 

With those eyes that seemed to gaze right into him, Alec would have probably promised him the world. Instead he just nodded. 

“Promise me that you will talk to me? Even if you can’t actually say the words… promise you will find me if you ever feel like that again…”

Alec did not hesitate. He nodded. The understanding, the love that he had received… He had never felt that from anyone before. It was a safety net, a hand to hold him. Reaching out, he gripped that hand tight in both of his. 

Magnus covered his hand and clasped them.

“I’m not going to let you go, Alexander.”


End file.
